8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

human!Winston/Soldier76 – nasty old man 76; coercion; forced feminization; abuse; non-consensual voyeurism; non-con/rape – Soldier has a not-so-willing pet in the kind scientist.

This one was tricky for me for some reason :0 Soldier really is a bastard in this one. I like to think that something good happens for Winston at the end

“You like sending me on the longest missions. If I didn’t know better I would think you don’t like me.”

Soldier watches with amusement as Winston flushes a dull red, nervous sweat springing up on his brow. His dark, docile eyes are not looking into the camera. Either because he hasn’t figured out yet where Jack is getting his video feed from, or because he can’t look at him while he’s lying.

“N-No.. ah.. that’s not… it,” Winston mumbles. Nervous. He is a brilliant scientist but in front of his *master* he is reduced to a bumbling idiot. Soldier smirks and leans back against the cracking wall. He’s found refuge for the night in a rundown abandoned apartment complex and figured that he could use a bit of a distraction during the dreary mission.

Cue, him checking in on his pet via the secret camera he installed in his laboratory.

“Show me your tits.”

Winston looks taken aback. He haphazardly shoves his glasses up his nose, shocked silent for a second.

“I… ah… b-but-”

“Don’t talk back to me, babe.” Jack leans forward even though Winston can’t see him, fixing him with a hard glare. “You don’t want to make it worse for you, do you? I won’t be gone forever…”

Winston falls silent, biting his lip. He ducks his head, his shoulders shaking, hands probably curled into big fists at his sides.

“Show me your tits. Nobody’ll have to know what kind of slut you are if you obey like a good girl.”

For a second, the scientist looks close to crying, face a humiliated hot red, fingers shaking fiercely as he lifts his hands and starts unbuttoning the lab coat he’s wearing. It is clear he has not mentally prepared himself for the possibility of Jack harassing him even when he is out on a mission, and he’s softer and more vulnerable than usual.

Jack watches hungrily, cock in hand, slowly stroking. Greedy for Winston’s young, supple body. For how meaty and hairy he is, and too good natured to put up much of a fight.

Jack is sure he’s been the scientist’s first from how bumbling and unskilled he’s been, sucking cock messy and without any finesse… so damn ashamed of his hairy, thick body; and it has been easy to get him to submit. To make him feel like he is lewd and nasty… that his team would ridicule him if Jack told them about that shaky little ‘daddy’ he’s whimpered out as Jack roughly dicked him to his first orgasm on the cock of a real man.

He almost feels bad about it. Almost.

Beneath his lab coat, Winston is wearing a thick pullover that looks rustic. Handmade. A sweet boy wearing what his grandma gifted him. The cock in Jack’s hand surges and he reaches into his pants with his other hand, cupping his testicles.

On the video feed, Winston hesitates, throwing nervous little glances around himself. Still searching for the camera.

He is slow, dragging his heels, and Jack quietly files that away for the next time he has him under his heel proper. Apparently the little slut still has to learn a lot.

Finally he moves, though, lifting his shirt, rucking it up beneath his armpits and showing off his hairy, soft chest and the hirsute swell of his guts. Jack’s nostrils flare and his thumb presses beneath his swollen glans, dragging against his frenulum until his balls jerk in his grip.

“Yeah that’s it. Good girl. Show ‘em to me.”

Winston has gone very quiet, just silently obeying. Letting Jack boss him around while he looks close to crying, his big hands framing his soft chest and pressing the pecs together. Showing them off nervously to what is for him an empty room.

“Yeah. Good. Very good. Is your door open? What would you do if someone just walked in to you fondling your slutty tits?”

Winston ducks his head, his lips trembling. Jack hums, hips flexing up into his grip. He wishes he had Winston right here just so he could have the delicious promise of his tight, fat ass cushioning his dick before the end of the night.

“Does it get you hot? Gets your little clit excited? Of course it does. I bet you’re getting your panties dripping because you’re such a nasty slut. You want to show your body off, don’t you? For *daddy*?”

Winston sobs, then. Shakes his head, but squeezes his big hands around his hairy tits, blunt fingers pinching his dark, pretty nipples without Jack having to urge him to do so. He might be denying it, but he’s a natural, deep down. A cheap two-dollar-whore that’s just been waiting for the right trigger. Someone bored enough to give him a pity fuck and have him realize how greedy he is for dick.

“Do you want to touch your little clitty, baby girl? Want to touch it while daddy talks you through it?”

Winston is shaking his head, then stops, just quietly whining.

“You have to ask for it. I want to hear you say it.”

“Please don’t,” Winston croakes. He looks up nervously, eyes flicking somewhere off screen. Maybe he’s hearing footsteps on the usually deserted corridors outside.

Jack feels a fierce surge of lust, his cock getting wet at the tip, pulsing against his palm.

“Don’t you dare cover up now. Stay right where you are, slut. You are *mine* and I will show you off whenever I like.”

Winston looks like he wants to crawl under the table, the color draining from his face.

Jack can hear the faint thump of steps as well, now.

Hhhhhhh……. PLEASE tell me there is a follow-up with Human!Winston getting split open on Reinhardts cock? Maybe going into future comps? Your fic gave me a mighty need for soft bara Winston being pet and lovingly pushed around, and we all know Reinhardt excels at that

hnnnnghhhh… Winston super scared of that big meaty dick. He’s not sure his lil hole can handle it D: need the others to touch his big hairy belly while they fuck him. It’s just so firm and fuzzy. He’s got big hard muscles but he’s soft all over from all that fur he’s got ❤

I wonder who got the glasses kink and jerks off on them after face fucking him.

but ye Rein would be really nice about it. Maybe thigh fuck him first to get him a bit used to the big dick. I kinda want one of the other guys to carefully fist him but I feel like he would freak out about that even more :’ )

he’s such a big bear but he’s so timid

papa-abel:

cyberrat:

papa-abel replied to your post:
papa-abel replied to your post:

…

OH GOOD i didn’t want to draw more of him if the one who inspired that didn’t like him

….sweatin over SAI rn i have New Energy

oh ggggoooodddddddd

it was meant to be p0rn but i started thinking about his panic when he woke up human and borrowing clothes from reinhardt LMAO

OH MY GOODNESS!!!!
LOOK AT HIM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH
fuck he’s so sexy… fuuuuuccckkkkkkkkkkkkkk

5th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 7th Fill

human!Winston/Team – virgin kink, bara kink, shy Winston – Winston has woken up as a human one day. The others have been hot for his thicc hairy bara body ever since.

“This… this is… h-hah…” Winston scrabbles at the desk, thick fingers shaking, then trying to push his glasses up without smudging the lenses too badly. He does not manage, but McCree is there, helping him out by nudging the frame back into place, then cupping his jaw in a hand and guiding his face over to the cock waiting for him.

“Highly unorthodox,” Winston whispers, deep voice a little thready as McCree unselfconsciously wipes his dick against the scientist’s face. From behind, Hanzo is working with single-mindedness, eyebrows drawn in concentration, arms braced on the edge of the table as he puts his back into the thrusts.

It can’t hurt; not with how nicely Winston’s hairy ass is cushioning his hips.

“Oh God,” Winston whispers. He is an irregular shade of blotchy red, face wet with sweat and now McCree’s pre-cum as Hanzo’s thrusts have him rocking across the table and into the cowboy’s crotch.

The whole thing has been a while coming. All since Winston woke up to find himself stuck in a different body some three weeks ago; the hairy gorilla physique having given way to a just slightly less hairier human body.

He’s never been as aware of his teammates’ sex drives as he’s become then and there; seeing – and feeling – the desperate lust radiating off of them as they stared at his thick arms and thighs, and his firm, round belly.

He’s never thought of anybody in strictly friendly terms until he’s found himself bend over by Lúcio of all people, getting his very first cock to spread his tender hole after the young man hand petted it like a little animal and then spent hours getting it nice and soft and stretched on two then three then four delicious, dexterous fingers.

He wonders if Lúcio has spoken about this to the others. Told them how easy Winston had been, hiding his face behind his hands and whispering oh dear oh dear oh dear while he got fucked gentle and easy; thick, hairy thighs spread to let the slender man between them and fuck a quick, overexcited orgasm out of him.

He wonders if he’s different in the eyes of the others. No longer Winston, the scientist, but Winston, the slut.

The thought makes his ears burn. He’s never had such… crude thoughts. Being a gorilla with his intelligence has killed his sex drive; there simply were no suitable mates to get hot and bothered about.

And now there are so many and all of them are interested.

His hole is soft and open, squelching softly with Hanzo’s thrusts, but keeping his cock nice and warm and cushioned either way. His insides feel nervous and shivery. He likes the feeling of being full. He likes a cock inside him, fucking against needy, spongy walls; and now McCree is telling him to ‘be a good boy and open up’, and Winston can’t help but do as he’s told.

McCree uses him like Lúcio has done and like Hanzo is doing now: easy and with a confidence that shames Winston. Like him craving their cocks has been as inevitable as the sun rising.

His thumb slips into the corner of Winston’s mouth. He drags it along the blunt surface of his molars, then across his tongue, urging his mouth wider so he can pop the fat head of his dick in.

Behind him, Hanzo is sounding more labored, his thrusts getting harder as his hands begin wandering: grabbing at his hips and the fat of his thighs, then settling at the sides of his big, firm belly, petting at the thick hair as he starts losing his rhythm.

He’ll pump Winston full, soon, but his attention is on Jesse, slowly pushing in and teaching Winston to suck dick while his glasses fog up something fierce.

Behind them, the door opens and he can hear the cadence of Reinhardt’s chuckling.

“Didn’t come too late, did I?”

“Only just begun. Take a seat.”

3rd Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 7th Fill

human Winston/Lúcio – another part for the housewife!Lúcio fic. Winston still comes prematurely but Lúcio is a good sport about it

“I… ah… ah…” Winston stutters, one hand automatically lifting, the fingers trembling badly as he pushes his glasses back up. Like he isn’t balls deep in the suckling welcoming heat of Mr. Ogundimu’s husband; feeling his insides squeeze and milk.

Like he isn’t already coming; only a few scant thrusts in and unable to hold back when Lúcio is so very sweet for it, making a scene like Winston is any good at fucking.

He’s loud, voice breathy and dreamy sounding as he makes his little ‘ah, ah, ah’s and ‘mmmhh’s and Winston does not feel as mortified as he maybe should at having blown his load so quickly. Again.

Lúcio’s hands travel down, gloved fingertips curling around the ruffled hem of his skirt, slowly pulling up to show the gorgeous length of his cock. He looks dazed, eyes sleepy, lips so glossy and pink – probably painted with some kind of lipstick – as he starts rubbing his belly slow and gentle, looking up at Winston like he’s in love with him.

“I can feel it here,” he whispers and Winston stares at him mute, overwhelmed with the whole situation, cock only half soft and still inside the sticky little slit Mr. Ogundimu’s husband seems so very generous with. (Winston has seen him offer it up to various of the employees around the house already.)

“Your cum,” Lúcio says when Winston does not respond. “I can feel it right here. So nice and warm…” Winston stares down at where Lúcio is still petting himself. Part of him weakly pipes up that that can’t be right , that there is no way; but Lúcio looks so sweet and earnest and out of it, squirming and reaching for Winston, grabbing at his lapels and pulling him down on top of him.

“I can feel your cock there, too,” he whispers into his ear, “How it pushes into my belly when you fuck me so good.”

Winston goes red hot, spluttering, making a weak, pathetic sound when his cock starts filling out again, eager as a teen, body primed to be used for once. By a pretty little… l… lady like this, nonetheless.

“Yes.. yes, just like that,” Lúcio coos, encouraging all the way, fingers carding through Winston’s wild hair and nuzzling at his throat. “Fuck me good. You have such a nice big dick. Can feel you for days. Think of you when you’re not here and I have to stuff my fingers in there to make it ache less… Can fit so many in after you’ve stretched me out so well.”

Winston chokes on his own tongue, eyes wide, spooked looking like a colt’s as he stares into Lúcio’s face, feels him undulate, moving his hips to fuck himself on Winston’s cock, eyelids fluttering when he uses Winston like a toy.

His small hand reaches for Winston’s thick wrist, pulls his unresisting body as he wants him to be. Places his palm on his belly where he petted earlier, and Winston wheezes out loud when he can feel the faint bump of his cock moving inside the pretty lady.

Lúcio beams at him. He looks proud, body goddamn cuddling with Winston’s cock as he does all the work, cooing and petting and distracting Winston from coming too quickly again.

“Do you like fucking me, Winston?” Lúcio whispers into his ear, and his answer is out before he can think much on it: “Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

He stiffs, mortified – horrified at is blunder; but Lúcio just keeps on purring, pretty body undulating, working his cock like a champ as he fucks the previous load frothy and makes it drip out of his clever little hole.

5th Ko-Fi Fic Prompt :)

Aight this one was a bit difficult because it was a ~600 word thing and I was given more or less free hand :’ ) so now it’s roughly double the word count but still a tad rushed but I did my best…

I was asked for housewife!Lúcio with a husband of my choosing but was given possibilities for each husband; so I kinda went and mashed 3 together which arreee:

Husband Reinhardt – (rape play) older Reinhardt has his much younger wife Lúcio who his friends tease he can’t pleasure due to Reinhardt having erectile dysfunction (can’t get it up or premature ejaculation or both!) So his friends come in to “help”

Husband Akande – (voyurism) Akande is a Very Busy and Important Man, he’s extremely rich but away from home a lot. His little wife Lúcio is bored and lonely in the huge mansion so he “entertains” his husband’s business partners like a good wife should. Good thing Akande has state of the art surveillance systems all over their home ;D

Husband Winston – (inexperienced human!Winston) newlyweds Winston is very nervous about their honeymoon, Lúcio helps his new hubby experience all the fun that can be had in a marital bed~

hope you likey^^

Akande loosens the tie around his neck while he watches. He imagines the party in the hotel’s vast entertainment room is still going on full swing, but he has been bored for a while already, thoughts drifting to his wife at home again and again until he just had to check.

He is not disappointed.

The video feed on his laptop is crystal clear, the audio perfect. He likes that he can’t change the camera angles perfectly, just switch from one to the next – it adds something more clandestine to the experience.

He’s already watched Lúcio try his damndest to get a rise out of their chauffeur; the big hulk of a man patiently letting the little slut play with his cock; long and fat and not in the mood to get hard, no matter how liberally Lúcio drools around it and scratches the wiry grey hair at the base like he’s petting a sweet animal.

It’s not the first time Lúcio has tried his luck with Reinhardt – he’s always hopeful, always diligent, as Akande knows from a vast amount of videos saved on his hard-drive – but his effort is not always crowned with success. Reinhardt is old – impressive looking, yes, but old – and there is only so much Lúcio can do.

The truly interesting part begins when both Reinhardt and Lúcio’s heads suddenly turn towards a sound that has not been picked up by the microphones, and Akande leans forward with interest, his dark eyes veritably glowing as he sees one of his new associates enter the picture: Winston.

The man is looking down, and fiddling with his briefcase. He is brilliant but awkward; Akande is unendingly amused by him. He is big, though not as big as Reinhardt, but carries himself with an air of humility that is strangely endearing. He should have known that Lúcio would be interested in him.

When he finally does look up, he freezes. Akande does not know what Lúcio has written in his little clandestine invitation, but the brilliant Doctor Winston must not have caught on to exactly what kind of outing he’s been invited to.

Akande chuckles deep in his chest and leans back, big hands falling to his slacks as he watches the little play unfold.

.o.

Doctor Winston is fire red by the time Lúcio is at him, his dark eyes flitting from Reinhardt sitting relaxed on one of the expansive couches, cock out and lying against his clothed thigh, to Mr. Ogundimu’s husband who… who…

“A-Ah I… I am…” He stares at the sweet little dress the young man is wearing. He looks delicious in it. Pretty. Unselfconscious. His hands curl around Winston’s thick wrist and tug him a step forward before he presses himself against the good Doctor’s front.

Winston can only stare, his glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose. His fingers go lax, and his briefcase falls to the floor, but nobody is paying attention.

“I am sorry,” he whispers finally, “I wasn’t aware… I m-mean… I should go…”

Lúcio is smiling up at him, all dimples and white teeth, his big brown eyes staring right into his soul as he tugs his unresisting body towards the couch.

“No, no. Stay.”

He pushes, and Winston falls heavily onto the cushion next to the older man he doesn’t know. The gentleman is huge and smiling at him genially as if nothing is amiss. Like his impressive cock isn’t still out there. Winston, who isn’t quite on the small side himself, has to make himself actively not stare.

Which means he is looking forward – right at the cleavage of Mr. Ogundimu’s husband–

“Oh dear,” he whispers, hot all over, helpless; and then Mr. Ogundimu’s husband is slipping into his lap and pulling up the little skirt of his wonderful black dress, and Winston can see his panties; pink and black and the outline of his pretty cock so very pronounced…

“I need to go,” he whispers, hands curling into helpless fists, cheeks pounding with embarrassment. He wishes he still had his briefcase to hold in front of himself like a shield.

“Nonono, please,” Lúcio murmurs, his small hands framing Winston’s cheeks, scratching through his short beard. “I am so bored… I just want to play.”

Winston makes a sound like he’s dying.

.o.

Akande is fascinated. Too fascinated to even jerk off as he watches his little wife be a slut. It is not new to him; how Lúcio invites colleagues and employees into Akande’s home to let them stuff him with their cocks until his belly is full and warm and he is purring like a well oiled engine.

Still, it never fails to rile him up; get him hot and bothered to watch them fuck his husband – his wife. Some… most… will be enchanted with Lúcio; call him sweet names and service him like he’s a pretty prince. Others will call him out for what he is; a greedy whore. A slut for cock. A needy, never-satisfied little cunt that crawls all over his husband when he’s home and goes around looking for other dicks the second he steps out and works.

It is a good arrangement; Akande has known from the beginning about it; Lúcio has not made it a secret. They both love it. They both thrive on it.

Doctor Winston, however, falls somewhat out of any of the molds.

Some are flustered and unsure, not wanting to bang their boss’ wife and risk getting fired; but they’ll get over it sooner rather than later; Lúcio makes sure of that.

Winston is jumpy from start to finish.

He does not dare touch Lúcio until his young wife grabs at those big hands with the hairy knuckles, and almost forcefully stuffs them down the front of his dress so he can feel up those lovely tits.

He seems deathly embarrassed about everything; starting from Reinhardt’s interested, amused gaze next to him, to the fact that Lúcio is so very unselfconscious in showing himself off; pulling down those sweet panties to show everybody the sleek, gorgeous length of his cock, and the soft, greedy slit he likes to stuff full of dick.

Akande hums when he sees Winston’s cock; unsurprisingly fat – the man is big and burly, after all – and shifts with anticipation of seeing it fill his wife’s hole. There is little else in the world Akande enjoys more than seeing Lúcio’s hole stretched wide on cock; the rim pouting outwards, swollen from good use and shiny with slick.

He’s never watched someone fuck as awkward as Winston. It is intriguing, to say the least.

It is probably his luck that Lúcio is such a sweet little lady; patient and docile; happy to do all the work as the good Doctor can only sit there, one hand on Lúcio’s gorgeous little tit, the other covering his eyes in shame. He is bumbling apologies the whole way through, brain seemingly stuck as he takes only peeks at the sweet thing on his lap.

He comes so quickly, too; grunts low and horrified just after a couple slow, delicious drags of Lúcio’s wet insides along his dick – and Akande hums deep in his throat, watches a close-up of the action; how he can see the fat shaft pulse inside the tight grip; how it doesn’t want to end like the good Doctor has been storing it up for months and months.

Lúcio does not look put-out by any of it. His cheeks are red like he’s been fucked for hours; his eyes feverishly glassy as he slides down, little pink tongue out to lap greedily at the Doctor’s cock while staring up into his hot, humiliated face.

Akande already knows that Winston will be one of Lúcio’s new favorite toys. That he’ll teach him how to fuck nice; how to keep going until he’s satisfied.

Reinhardt looks just as intrigued as the rest of them, his big hand on the back of Winston’s neck, gripping gentle, making him look at Lúcio tending to his cock.

Akande hums, hand finally slipping into his pants. Lúcio hasn’t come yet, after all – and the night is still young.

Gabriel needing that good, good dick and sneaking into the overwatch base to visit Winston…

oh my god… considering the thing never happened where Reaper stepped on Winston’s glasses and pissed him off eternally, I can only imagine that Reaper will have a field day going after Winston’s dick.

Winston is a good boy, and super bumbly so he would stutter the whole time through but not have it in him to tell Reaper no. Especially when he has him sitting on his cock, those massive thighs spread around his wide hips. He’s probably nervously feeling them up, staring at them and going so beet red as he imagines them around his head.

They’re so thick and muscular, Reaper could probably crush his skull like a grape.

Whenever Winston so much as squirms, Reaper will tighten his claws that he has on his hairy chest; just a reminder that all he has to do is keep nice and still while Gabriel takes his big, fat dick and keeps it snug and warm in his guts.

(What he really needs, though, is Winston’s primal rage getting triggered and him deep dicking him with a mating press. Reaper may or may not be already in the talks with Moira to give him a concoction for that.)

Big dick Winston with absolutely no idea how to use that thing. Somone like baby slut Genji or Zen or Hanzo just being sooo into watching themselves in a mirror, getting dicked down by this big sweet guy fumbling with his primo dick, awkward pace and barely grazing their prostate and all in all it would be ehn if they weren’t so into themselves. Seeing how humiliatingly wrecked they are for a good cock, not even a good fuck, just ratcheting them up more.

cyberrat:

*drags hands down face* I need to write something for this later; but until then, you all need to stew in it just as I do

“G-Genji… ah…”

“Put it in, c’mon,” Genji wheezes, back arching, pushing out his ass to make his hole gape open, wet and flushed from fucking himself on a big toy before coming to track down his boss.

“I… uh…” Winston is stammering. Genji can see him in the mirror; his glasses crooked and fogged up, spiky hair a mess – but that was not unusual.

His big, blunt fingers are clumsily grabbing at Genji’s supple thighs, eyes trained helplessly on the softly gaping hole offered up to him. He looks as startled as a deer and Genji almost feels pity for him if he wasn’t so annoyed that he had to do everything.

“C’mon, boss,” he whines, rubbing at Winston’s hairy shins where he’s bracing himself on. He would have taken initiative already; just plopped himself down on Winston’s cock; but the dick is too blood heavy to stand up, and Winston had been wheezing so hard when he pulled it out of his boxers that he feared the scientist would come the second he touched it again.

“C’mon,” he wheedles; he sounds young and annoyed, head falling back. He likes Winston, he’s a good guy, and Genji likes the burly thick types anyway – he likes all types, to be exact – but Winston’s wool gathering was starting to get on his nerves when all he wanted was to get spread open nice on that big, veiny dick he’s seen in the lockers.

Finally Winston moves; grabbing a hold of his cock, even though his face looks dubious; like he is unsure of what to do even as he carefully nudges the fat, blunt tip against Genji’s gape.

“Yeah,” Genji sighs, knees spreading farther, hips dipping down to help things along.

He’s already made peace with the fact that he will have to do all the work – which is not exactly his style – but he’s ready for it this time.

The real question is… are you going to continue that human Winston/slutty Zenyatta?

Anonymous said: “

Omg please carry on with the Human Winston stuff!!!

“

Anonymous said: “

That Winston fic has me FUCKED UP. He’s so shy 99% of the time, unable to admit that he’s caught most of the base staring at his bulge at one time or another, but if you push his buttons just right, he’ll wreck you.

“

Y’all are killing me T.T hnngh

but please… Winston is a gentleman. He’d be super nervous and concerned while wrecking shit.

Winston stumbles as Zenyatta urges him backwards, almost grateful when he finally has to sit down on his bed, heat curling through him as his mattress protests loud at his sudden weight.

Zenyatta doesn’t seem to mind. He is still between his knees and rubbing his flushed, sticky face against Winston’s plump, firm stomach like a kitten.

“Please,” he murmurs, glancing up at Winston with dark, needy eyes.

“I… ah-ah… I mean.. uh…” he is casting a nervous glance around his room, looking anywhere but at the monk who is pushing beneath his belly again and kissing with sticky, pouting lips at the flushed tip of his cock.

He can’t believe that he is still hard even after he’s already come so hard – and upsettingly quick – but Zenyatta doesn’t seem put off by the fact.

“So big, still,” Zenyatta purrs. He can’t see too much what with his stomach in the way and his glasses deposited… somewhere, but he can make out the monk’s docile eyes; closed reverently as he slurps, and Winston presses one big palm across his mouth to stifle his low groan.

“Please,” the monk says again, and he sounds so collected. So calm. Winston’s bushy dark brows are pulled together, staring down in shock. “Use my mouth.”

Winston can feel his cock jerk at the words; flexing once and surging up against his belly once more as it slips out of Zenyatta’s surprised grasp.

Zenyatta chuckles; a gentle, indulgent sound before he opens his mouth wide for Winston’s viewing pleasure – showing him the red slip of his pretty, slick tongue – then dips down and swallows down his cock once more, one hand fumbling to curl fingers around Winston’s thick wrist and pull his hand towards the carefully shorn back of his head.

Winston clenches his eyes shut, breathing through clenched teeth as for the second time that day he feels Zenyatta’s throat open up for him laughably easy to let his swollen tip slip down as far as he can go.

He can feel the contractions of the warm throat around him; hear Zenyatta’s soft, wet gagging as he holds the position for a second before pulling back and taking a deep gulp of air.

“Please,” he says with a sweet voice, placing wet kisses over the lower curve of Winston’s hairy belly “Use me.”

Winston doesn’t know if there is someone who could refuse this monk a request.

His hand is big enough to gently cradle the back of Zenyatta’s head, holding him secure as he pulls him towards him carefully, nervous to hurt him as he guides his fat cock back down that tender little place, making it spread around him.

When Zenyatta gags again, he wants to pull away, breath hitching in his chest, an apology already on his tongue – but Zenyatta’s hand is there, clutching at him, making him hold him down.

“Oh dear,” Winston whispers, a little mantra that he forces out as his eyes are clenched shut. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…”

He almost reluctantly follows suit; balls feeling heavy and full as he pulls Zenyatta down on his cock, listening to him gag and choke only for scant fractions of seconds before he hastily lets him come up for air; until, that is, he becomes more needy-

Until his body is on fire as he listens to Zenyatta’s broken, pathetic little moans; the monk so obviously into getting used and throat fucked by a ruddy cock that should be too big to fit anywhere inside his orifices.

He uses Zenyatta like a fleshlight; fucks him down onto his dick, making him suffocate in the thicket of pubes as his cock stoppers up his windpipe.

He feels like he hasn’t come at all yet; like he still has enough cum to make Zenyatta’s belly bloat with it, and from the needy, wet suckling between his thighs, and Zenyatta’s delirious, sloppy moans, he feels like the monk is hoping for just that.

Winston bites his bottom lip, glutes tensing and belly hitching – and then he comes, holding Zenyatta down without thinking about it; making him drink his cum, have it pump down his throat and into his belly without detours, body hot and tingly and electric feeling.

He feels almost corrupted by the monk.

papa-abel:

@cyberrat got me with human!winstonxhuman!zenyatta visuals here & here

Keep reading

Winston is just about to step into his shower when the epiphany comes to him; the solution about how to improve the launchers on his armor that liked to sputter to a halt every now and then.

He immediately turns away from the stall, haphazardly grabbing his glasses on his way out, mind already running through the calculations.

It should be working if he hadn’t made a mistake…. there definitely was a possibility that…

“Oh, Winston, I-”

He cries out in surprise, flinching back against the doorframe of his bathroom. He fumbles with his glasses, trying to put them back onto his nose, though the motion is just ingrained at this point – he already knows who has wandered into his room; Zenyatta’s voice was easy to recognize.

“Z-Zenyatta,” he stutters, glasses a little crooked on his nose as he missed one ear, staring at the monk who is looking him up and down in interest, an enigmatic smile on his face. “What are you doing in here?”

A gentle breeze slipping through between his thighs and tickling the heavy sway of his cock and balls, brings an immediate, embarrassed heat into his cheeks. Quickly he pulls back, big hands coming forward to shield himself before the monk’s dark, docile eyes that look at him so very unabashedly.

“I merely wanted to give you a little present for your help with my orbs the other day, but…”

Winston can now see the large jar of peanut butter in Zenyatta’s slim hands, face contorting at the unfortunate wording of the thin monk. He shuffles backwards, trying to find the door to his bathroom again which should be right behind him, but for some reason his ass is only hitting the cold wall.

“…I think I can do a little better than that,” Zenyatta concludes with a sunny smile, sitting the sticky treat down on Winston’s table, strewn with folders and old fashioned books.

Helplessly, Winston watches him, heart thundering in his chest as Zenyatta comes closer with a spring in his step and an expression that looks so thoroughly satisfied with life that Winston wonders whether he actually slipped in his bathroom and slammed his head on the ground. Maybe he had a severe concussion and this was some kind of grotesque feverdream induced by… by…

Zenyatta is so close now, patting Winston’s cheek and scratching through his beard before reaching up and plucking the crooked glasses from his nose.

“I, uh-uh… I uhm…” Winston can’t make his mouth work, staring in helpless mortification as Zenyatta lowers himself into a crouch right before him, that lovely brown face with round cheekbones and curvy lips immediately hidden behind the hard, generous swell of Winston’s gut.

“A-Agent,” he stutters out, voice a low, embarrassed rumble as he feels one long-fingered hand lift his junk and hold it in a warm cradle atop his palm.

“You smell so good,” he can just about hear Zenyatta murmur, his breath tickling the generous bush of hair beneath his belly. The knowledge of how close the monk is – close enough that Winston can feel it on the ruddy skin of his dick – is making his mouth run dry.

“I haven’t- I haven’t showered yet,” he whispers faintly. Zenyatta’s other arm has come up and his hand is petting across the hairy swell of his stomach, pressing in with the heel of his hand as if to feel how firm it is; thick muscles beneath the skin. It’s… it feels reverent, and Winston flushes up to his hairline, one paw-like hand grabbing downwards blindly and holding helplessly onto the thin forearm.

“P-Please…”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Zenyatta answers with a supreme sense of serenity. His head nestles closer beneath the swell of Winston’s stomach, and his knees become weak as he feels the monk’s nose and mouth against the silky skin of his cock, inhaling deeply. “Had I only known…”

Zenyatta interrupts himself, and Winston’s highly intelligent mind stalls like one of his launchers, wondering what that would have changed… what that knowledge would have given Zenyatta-

He can’t remember the last time he had gotten a blowjob. He can’t even remember the last time he had felt the need to try and awkwardly woo someone to coax them into his bed. Winston does not need it much, is most of the time very content with his hands – but the feeling of Zenyatta’s wet little mouth first lapping, then suckling on the head of his dick is… it is…

“‘S good,” Winston whispers shyly, eyes closed, panting softly as he listens to the obscene suckling sounds as Zenyatta lets him slip deeper, unselfconsciously pressing his face into the fold between his crotch and his belly, trying to get as close as possible as Winston’s cock grows; swelling to life insistently inside the tight little cave.

He whimpers, thumb rubbing mindlessly across the thin wrist of the arm he is still holding onto. His belly is filled with liquid heat, breath stuttering as he can feel himself pop past the restraint of the monk’s throat, heart trying to burst out of his chest as he realizes how easily Zenyatta is taking him despite a bit of wet, delicious gagging.

He’s taking his girthy dick like a well-seasoned whore, and the knowledge makes him slap his free hand over his face, whimpering behind his broad palm as he comes embarrassingly fast, the orgasm taking him by surprise.

He can hear Zenyatta choke as thick strings of cum suddenly splash against the back of his throat, and tries to apologize with humiliation heating his whole body up. All he manages are meaningless stutters while his still jerking cock abruptly slips out of the coughing monk’s lovely little mouth.

“Don’t- ah. Don’t worry yourself,” Zenyatta assures, deep voice suddenly no longer smooth but rough, and Winston feels with mortification how his cock is flexing at the sound – at the knowledge that… that he did that to a… a… a monk…

It is not going soft yet; the fat length of it snuggled against the lower curve of his belly and smearing the fur there with spit and cum. When he looks down at the lovely face peering up at him, Zenyatta’s round cheekbones dark with a flush and strings of Winston’s cum on the serenely smiling face, the scientist wants to sink into the ground in shame.

“This is quite alright,” Zenyatta assures him, his dark eyes trailing down, staring at the fat, ruddy tip pointing directly at him with a kind of single-minded intent that Winston had only ever witnessed in cats about to pounce. “Please, I just…”

And he reaches out again, those thin, long fingers curling lovingly around the dark shaft, and Winston chokes on nothing at all.